


Azure Feather

by KhadaVengean



Series: Beyond the Earth, Beyond the Sky [1]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: And quiet literally, Angst, Azure moon compilant, Character Study, During Canon, F/M, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, I don't know, Idealism, Ingrid needs more love, Knighthood, Late Night Conversations, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, Psychological Trauma, Redemption, Symbolism, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, because she's awesome, no beta we die like Glenn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:41:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24877096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KhadaVengean/pseuds/KhadaVengean
Summary: After the death of Glenn Ludwig Fradlarius, Ingrid's old idea of becoming a knight is gone. Confronted with grief and pain, she must learn how to stand on her own two feet.Character Study of Ingrid Brandl Galatea during Fire Emblem Three Houses and Azure Moon.
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic/Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth, Felix Hugo Fraldarius & Ingrid Brandl Galatea, Glenn Fraldarius/Ingrid Brandl Galatea, Ingrid Brandl Galatea/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: Beyond the Earth, Beyond the Sky [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1856056
Comments: 2
Kudos: 56





	Azure Feather

**Author's Note:**

> Oh boi, one of my biggest procects have finally been completed. 
> 
> It litereally took me six months to get this baby done. And thanks to my sudden sickness which binds me to my bed, I finally have some time and muse to write this instead of just sleeping and playing Persona 4 Golden on Steam. This is really long so I hope you take your time to read it. 
> 
> Edit 7/9/2020: I will leave some notes about the scenes at the bottom. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy. Critisicism if appreciated, especially because this is so long I have no idea what to make of it. 
> 
> English is not my first language. Please be aware of that.

**I.**

It was all a lie.

The casket standing in the front was doing nothing but mock her.

To wear the color black just felt wrong. So goddess damn wrong. She always hated black.

_She loved red, blue, green. Anything that brightens the mood or matches the color of her hair. Back then, during one party that was organized by the king himself, she was also invited, together with her brothers and father._

The fabric itched on her thighs, the veil hiding her face reached her chin and she could feel the tingle in her fingertips **. “Rip it down** ,” it seemed to say.” **You are not mourning.”**

“ _You look wonderful,” he had whispered into her ear, letting a shiver run down her ear. He combed her open hair with his fingers, looked with her into the same mirror and the smile he had on his lips let her smile on her own. “You will be the center of all attention.”_

She felt the pitying glances on the back of her head, on her profile. Even the priest stared at her for a couple of seconds before he resumed his speech. But why should she be pitied? Everything was alright,  **wasn’t it?**

“Today we grief for the death of Sir Glenn Ludwig Fraldarius, a knight of the holy Kingdom of Faerghus. A devoted son, brother, fiance, knight and friend. He gave his life to protect our prince, sacrificed himself for the future of Faerghus. A sacrifice most respectable and honorable.”

Sacrifice? Which sacrifice? He wasn’t dead, he couldn’t be. After all, he was strong, one of the youngest knights to ever gain the title. He was the protector of his highness, knighted by the king himself. His technique was flawless, he always fought for those who couldn’t protect themselves.

He made her a promise. And a knight from Faerghus never breaks his promises.

“ _Countess Galatea, correct?” A noble from another house approached her, bowed to show her the respect she deserved as the heir of one of the greatest noble houses in the kingdom and due to tradition, she curtsied instead of bowing back. Her heels hurt from the movement. “How lovely it is to see you after such a long time. And growing so fast and to such a beautiful young woman.” She blushed, feeling how the compliment let blood rise to her cheeks and she wanted to thank him humbly._

_But before Ingrid was capable to speak a word, she felt an arm encompass her waist and a shriek sound escaped her throat. That wasn’t a sound a knight would make, but her betrothed didn’t seem to mind._

“ _You are certainly a lucky man, Lord Glenn.”_

The silence resembled a cemetery when her future father-in-law, Lord Rodrigue Achille Fraldarius stepped into the spot the priest has occupied before. His eyes were heavy with something she couldn’t deter and before she could command her eyes to stay, she scanned the room around her.

Felix, sitting in the first row, had his shoulders pulled together; the black collar around his neck reminded her of how Glenn always walked around. His long blue hair falling down his back, his narrow hips and the smile that was always capable to make her feel whole-

“My son hated grand speeches. He was always one for short words. I do not intent to dwell on his life or the things he did. The ones who loved him will always remember.”

Why hated it? He still did – right?

Her eyes went over to Sylvain, sitting on the other side of the room with his parents and Miklan right next to him. His fiery red hair stood out in the crowd, but the look on his face was so passive and filled with hidden sorrow that she felt her breath hitch.

“I only wish to say one thing.”

In the first row on the left side was the last of their quartet – Prince Dimitri, surrounded by advisors, sat remarkably still. While Felix’s shoulders trembled, Sylvain’s face spoke more than a thousand words, Dimitri was impassive.

“ _Are you sure you need to go?”_

“ _Ingrid, why so worried?”_

_She had looked away. Felt a blush climb up her cheeks. But she resisted the urge to drop the case – instead, she looked into her fiance's eyes with set force and she wasn’t one to relent. “Duscur isn’t safe right now. What if anything happens to you? Or Dimitri? Or the king?”_

_Glenn’s skeptical look turned into something different – one of the two looks she loved the most. The first one was his determination as soon as he was wrapped in a battle; be it a spar with his highness or helping other recruits to achieve perfection in their technique._

_The second, the one he showed her right now, was reserved for her and her alone._

_A look of love. Softness embeds into his features, ceasing the frown between his brows and his lips look so incredibly soft when he showed her the smirk she knew and adored._

“ _Ingrid.” His hands on her shoulders felt warm. Comforting. A blessing. “There is no need for you to worry so much about me. I’ll be fine and make sure that Dimitri comes home safely.” He cupped her cheeks and ran his thumbs over her jaw. “After all, I have a promise to hold to you, don’t I?”_

_He grabbed her hand and kissed it with such silent passion that her breath was cut short._

_She believed him._

“My son died like a true knight.”

**Died?**

**Why did he say it like she had to mourn? She didn’t have anything to mourn, right?**

Resentment. Guilt. Nightmares. Regret. Shame. Disappointment.

Love. Undying love. Regression.

Duke Fraldarius didn’t realize which kind of things he had created with this sentence alone.

Futures were forged. Relationships destroyed and begun anew.

Ingrid Brandl Galatea looked at her former father-in-law and folded her hands in her lap. Everyone disappeared and only two things were left.

Her and the coffin.

He’d jump right out of it, right? He’d laugh at them after pulling such a bad joke, right? Glenn would never break his promise, right?

Glenn would never die, right?

**Right?**

Suddenly, she felt blue eyes on her profile and green and blue met each other.

Prince Dimitri’s eyes were filled with tears; guilt, regret, his bottom lip  quivering while he restrained the pearls from falling. Dimitri never cried much. He was strong.

Glenn…died protecting him. He died, he took his last breath.

He survived. The kingdom kept its heir and sovereign.

At the cost of Glenn Ludwig Fraldarius.

A strange feeling filled her chest. Her betrothed might have broken his promise. But he did it for the right cause.

He protected Dimitri. He protected their friend. He protected the boy who was like a second brother to him. He died with honor. He died for the right cause.

A warm hand captured her folded ones and silently, she leaned into her father’s shoulder. Allowed the tears to fall. To mourn.

Glenn was gone. But the future of the thing he wanted to protect remained. He was a knight of Faerghus. A knight of the kingdom. Virtue and chivalry were his code of honor and he died a worthy death of his person.

“ **He died like a true knight.”**

* * *

**II.**

“ _You know, sometimes I get the feeling that Dimitri has a heart too kind for this world.”_

“ _Isn’t that something good? He always helps those around him. With a heart like his, he’ll be a great king.”_

His hands were covered in blood. No matter how often he’d clean them, she could see it. She could see it obviously. He belonged to them. A boy of Duscur. Someone who belonged to the murderers.

The sight of the boy so close to Dimitri let her retch.

“ _That’s true. But it can harbor so many dangers for his highness. A kind heart like his is too open for any kind of hurt. Whenever someone betrays him, he’ll break so much easier than another person.”_

_Ingrid looked at him from her spot._

The force in her strides were strong. Just like he had taught her – eyes open and looking forward, don’t let anything move your stance, don’t hesitate, don’t forget what you are fighting for.

She’d protect his memory. And the boy of Duscur was a hindrance.

_His rough laugh managed to bring a shiver down her spine. “I just can’t help but worry for him. You know how he is whenever I voice my thoughts. He always denies them and tells me that I shouldn’t worry so much about him. He’s not a child anymore.”_

_The blade of his sword reflected his face. His long, dark hair. His blue eyes. His fair skin, pale despite the fact that he spent so much time in the sun, training and perfecting his technique. He looked so much like his father._

Short, bright hair. Dark tanned skin. His face lacked so many emotions.

It was enough.

She stepped between them without announcement, startling the prince with a gasp and only a small look of surprised crossed the boy’s – Dedue, as she heard from the servants – face.

“ _Ingrid_ , please-”

She ignored them.

“The only reason you are here is because of his highness. If he wouldn’t be so kind, you would already be dead.”

The boy’s eyes darkened. He’d lash at her, like the beast he was.

“I do not care who you are or your story. Just let me tell you one thing.”

He towered over her, was a head taller. But in this moment, she was big and he was small. The power was in her hands.

“If I ever see a motion of betrayal on your side, if I ever see that Dimitri sheds tears because of you, I will not hesitate to cut you down and end your miserable life on the spot.”

Silence.

The beast of Duscur nodded quietly, without much resemblance of a movement. “I understand.”

“ _It’s the duty of a knight to protect their liege. No matter what happens. To act as a shield, as a sword, as an armor. You give your life to ensure that they fulfill their fate as sovereigns. But, first and foremost, I serve him as a friend. As a shoulder he can lean on whenever he wishes to shed tears.”_

_Her fiance’s smile let her smile on her own. “This is my responsibility.”_

* * *

**III.**

The room felt so much bigger than before – whenever she visited the mansion of House Fraldarius, paid her respect to her in-law-family, she had remembered this room fondly. It was a room filled with laughter, with uplifting conversation, with smiles. Even when Duchess Fraldarius departed the mortal world and the presence of a vacant seat brought a grieving look on the duke’s face, the combined efforts of the two sons was enough to bring the light back to their father’s face.

Now, the effort was gone and another seat was empty.

“I wish to become a knight. To serve the kingdom and his highness when he ascends the throne.”

She saw the bright shine in the Duke’s eyes, the happiness in his blue orbs and Ingrid felt her shy demeanor slip away.

“How foolish.”

And with two words, the temperature cooled down to a freezing level. Summer turned to winter.

“Pardon?”

Ingrid felt small in her seat. The eyes of Duke Fraldarius were filled with strictness. But it was hollow. So incredibly void of anything resembling the living.

“What did you just say?”

“You’ve heard me just right.” The late Duchess Fraldarius was known for her focused stare, as sharp as a dagger to pierce the spot where it hurt most. Felix inherited not only the color, but also the same intensity from his mother. “I said it’s foolish.”

Rodrigue Fraldarius said nothing. Looked at his son. Seconds passed and it felt like hours. A minute and it was an eternity.

With his hands on the table, he rose from his seat. His voice was calm. “Leave us.”

All the servants that were still present in the dining chamber bowed and hurried, disappeared at the command of the duke. When the air was clear and only a father, his son and his once thought daughter-in-law were left, Ingrid felt a pang of fear strike through her heart.

She looked between father and son. The only thing she could do was to watch them. She didn’t even think of blinking once.

Until Felix looked at her. And his stare beheld so much more power than from nearly any other noble she had ever spoken to. “You’re a fool to hope to become a knight. In the end, you will also die for Dimitri, just like Glenn did.”

It hurt. His eyes were daggers and they pierced right through her own, right into her soul.

“Felix!” The intimidating presence of Duke Fraldarius wasn’t a hindrance for Felix – instead, it only fueled him more. “Take that back immediately. Are you even aware what you’re doing?!”

“What am I doing? You are the one to hold Glenn in this ridiculous spot.” His voice turned even darker and lower. “’ _He died like a true knight_.’ Is that what you want to say?”

“Glenn gave his life for the prince, to protect him and value his principles. I won’t allow you to mock this sacrifice that he had brought – without him, our kingdom wouldn’t be standing and even more people would die due to war, is that even clear to you?!”

“Forget your kingdom even for one second, old man!”

Ingrid’s breath got caught in her lungs. She pressed her hand against her mouth to stifle her cough.

“Glenn is dead. My brother, your son, is dead. He sacrificed himself for Dimitri and do you know what he left behind?!”

He only looked at her from the corner of his eyes. It was only for a small fickle of time, the blink of a moment. Her. He left her behind.

And Ingrid wanted to cry.

“Glenn made an oath. An oath he kept. He was honorable, his whole life, he followed the codex the knights followed. He wanted to become one and he was aware of the things that could happen. A knight is always prepared to fight for the king and to give his life for him if necessary.”

“Do you even hear yourself talking?! Glenn is dead and you keep insisting that it was the right thing?!”

Rodrigue continued to look at him. Felix was bristling with anger. She only saw how he clenched his teeth, nearly cracking under the pressure.

“My brother is dead!”

“He died-”

It happened in a flash. Even in retro perspective, in lone nights when she thought about the man who was like a brother to her, she couldn’t recall exactly what had happened.

How Felix jumped from his seat, rounded the table, got on his toes and slapped his father across the cheek.

The hit echoed hit the walls and was repelled. It was a sound that haunted her sometimes in her dreams.

Seconds passed and she could only look at the picture of father and son.

Felix fell to his knees and Rodrigue kept standing on his spot. The grandfather clock in the corner kept ticking.

Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock.

“Glenn gave his life to protect our prince.” Rodrigue’s voice was thick.

He didn’t even sound like that during Glenn’s funeral.

“He kept his vow and did his best to stick true to his ideals. He was a kind and selfless soul.”

Felix’s breathing was heavy.

“I’m proud of him.”

And in one fell swoop, Felix stood up and ran out of the chamber, throwing the door behind himself. He left her with Rodrigue back.

Ingrid was sitting all the time. Unable to do anything. She could feel tears pricking on her eyelids.

“Ingrid.”

She lifted her head.

Rodrigue Fraldarius, Duke and head of house Fraldarius, the man who would have become her father-in-law in another life, smiled at her. His eyes were glistening. “Can you promise me something?”

Her voice was cracking. “Of course.”

“Stick to the things you believe in. Trust your own heart, no matter what happens. Can you do that for me?”

Something wet ran down her cheek. Ingrid nodded and felt two, strong hands on her shoulders and she leaned her head against the chest of the Duke.

Her heart felt empty.

* * *

**IV.**

It was cold in her room.

Icy cold. Cold enough to bite its way through the fabric of her blanket. Cold enough to freeze her on the spot. Not cold enough to freeze her blood and stop time in its existence.

But it was needless, right? Everything was, right?

Needless.

Was pride really so wrong? Was it really so wrong to be proud of someone? Was it not right to look at a person and feel the warm sensation in your chest and be happy for someone else, happy that he achieved something like that?

Pride was probably a  _needless_ sensation. 

If it wasn’t allowed, why would her great kingdom still stand? A country, based on its knights and its principles of chivalry. Her homeland, the place she was coming from, was needless. If she’d listen to his words, he could just step down from the throne and let Faerghus transpire. Stop its right to its existence.

Why was  **pride** needless? 

“ _Are you really trying to turn his needless death into an ideal to uphold?”_

_**Needless?** _

Long hair. Pale skin. Blue eyes. A strict demeanor and an even striker composure. But kindness and a gentle spirit resting beneath the surface. A warrior, a knight, fighting to protect the ideals he believed in.

_**Needless ideals.** _

Noble and  virtuous. Someone who cared  for the weak. Who took his blade into his hand and defended anyone who needed protection, independent from power or wealth.

He gave his life for Dimitri. For the cause he served. For the boy he grew to love as a brother.

“ _You would do well to rethink that ideal, my friend.”_

Ideal? Why ideal?

Ingrid pulled her knees closer to her chest, crossing her arms on them and looking at the wall. Her clenching tightened.

She couldn’t remember the sensation of tears – the memory was gone. Hence it was even stranger to feel the liquid form in her eyes and the lump rise in her throat.

She sobbed into her pillow. The fabric dampened from the sheer weight.

If his death wasn’t a sacrifice for the prince… then what was it for?

* * *

**V.**

Whoever knocked on her door this morning could just go. Away, never to be seen again. She wanted to be alone, without anyone to interrupt her.

Was it all right to mourn? Now, after everything?

_Needless sacrifice?_

“Ingrid? Are you in there?”

A distant voice. Someone she knew. It wasn’t Dimitri’s cautious tone or Felix’s gruff organ, but something different. Dedue would never come here and Ashe’s voice was too high. That only left…

“It’s me, Sylvain. Are you still sleeping?” A short snort. “Classes have already started. Did you stay up late? The professor told me to look after you.”

She shifted in her bed, pulled the blanket over her head and buried her nose in her pillow. She wanted him to go away. She needed time for herself. Time for no one that wasn’t Glenn. She wanted to be alone. To lick her wounds.

Silence. And she was sure that he had gone already, leaving her to her solitude. Sylvain wasn’t the kind of guy who’d wait for her to wake up-

“Ingrid, what’s wrong? This isn’t like you.”

Apparently, he didn’t know her as well as he thought he did. Was it wrong to just stay in bed once without anyone mocking her by knocking at her door and telling her that it wasn’t like her? Wasn’t she the one who knew best?

“Ingrid, please. I know you’re in there. Can I come in?”

If he knew she was here, why did he even bother? She wouldn’t wake up, no matter what he would say.

“The last time you’ve acted like this was…when Glenn died.” Her breath hitched, the lump grew big enough to cut off all air. “I want to help you.”

He was the reason why she stood up last time. Even though four years have passed…

…nothing’s changed.

The weight in her limps was strong enough to pull her down. Her hair clung to her neck and her uniform jacket lay on the floor.

But she kept going. She opened the door and the picture of her red headed friend stood on the other side, with his brown eyes looking her in confusion, then shifted to concern and finally to a strange somberness not even Felix was capable to bring up.

Sylvain’s darkness was so much deeper than she had thought. Ever since they defeated Miklan, it seemed to come up more often than normally.

They didn’t speak. Not even a word. They merely exchanged looks and Ingrid wasn’t sure what to make out of his expression. Should she say something? Should she send him away? Tell him to mind his own business?

Should she be reasonable? Like the person that everyone expected her to be? Was it wrong to be unreasonable for once and listen to one’s feelings after all? Should she apologize? For making him worry? For taking his time? To bother him with her troubles?

“Can I come in?”

His voice was thick with grief. Her only reply was a step to the side. He came in, stood in the middle of the room and had no word to say.

How ridiculous? The silver-tongued Sylvain, at a loss of words?

“What happened?” After a pause, he continued. “Does this something have to do with Dimitri?”

Ingrid lifted her eyes to look into his serious expression. An emotion she sometimes wished he showed more often, but it looked wrong on his features. His lips turned to a wary smile. “Ever since class started, he behaved strangely. Whenever the professor wasn’t looking,  he checked if your seat was really empty. All the others also wondered why you weren’t there.” 

So, Dimitri was worried.

She shouldn’t be surprised. He always was – his kind heart was his greatest gift and yet his greatest weakness.  He was worried about her and what was she doing, sitting in her room and pondering about something he had said?

“I’m sorry, Sylvain.” She was – for making him come here, for forcing herself into the center of attention she never wanted to be.

“There’s nothing worth apologizing. Besides, you shouldn’t start with that; we both know that I’m the one apologizing and you’re the one scolding me and not the other way around. This is creeping me out.” He laughed about his own joke and the chuckle faded away into silence. But instead of a dead one, it was light. “Besides, you let me cry on your shoulder when Miklan died. The least I can do is return the favor, right?” He put his hand on her right shoulder – the same spot where he had buried his face when his brother ceased to be after becoming such a cruel beast.

She still remembered the tears he had shed – in his room,  on the floor, his face between her shoulder and neck, hugging her around the waist and cursing everything that tore the two brothers apart. It wasn’t fair. 

“Tell me if there is something on your mind, Ingrid. Don’t hesitate to come to me if you need a shoulder to rely on. I’m here for you.”

Brown met green and the blonde felt her breath cut short.

“ _If you feel sad again, you can come to me. Then we can cry together.”_

She told another one the same words when his mother died out of illness. It was the first time she saw him shed tears, secluded, without his father or brother in sight and the memory forced the tears to come again once more.

“Thank you, Sylvain.”

When he flashed her that familiar grin of his, she didn’t realize how much she needed it. How beautiful it looked.

“No problem. Anything for you.” He folded his arms behind his neck. “Now then, shall we go to the others? The professor has already asked for you, you know.”

Suddenly, he grabbed her wrist and she felt  all gravity falling down on her limbs. ”Sylvain, wait!” 

“What?”

“I just came out of bed, I need to at least comb my hair-”

“Why?” He stepped up, right in front of her face and looked at her hair that fell open in golden waves over her shoulders, reaching her elbows. “You’re beautiful, stop worrying about it.”

The second time he reached for her wrist, she had no other choice but to follow.

* * *

**VI.**

The last rays of the Wyvern Moon sun brought enough warmth and comfort when Sylvain dragged her through the grounds of the monastery. He held her wrist the entire time and didn’t even let go when she told him to do so.

He just flashed her a wink and kept on running.

The rest of the Blue Lions was standing outside and all eyes fell on them when they reached the class rooms. Both nervousness and a little bit of shame coursed through her veins when she saw Felix’ scoff, Ashe’s kind eyes, Dedue’s passive face or Annette’s and Mercedes’ worried expression.

“Ingrid, thank goddess you are alright.” Ashe stepped forward, his cheeks hanging down due to the frown on his forehead. “We’ve already expected the worst.”

“There is no need. I just…”

What was she supposed to say? Should she admit that she had a fight with Dimitri and decided to behave like a child instead of being responsible enough to shoulder his words? “I just had a rough day and a rough night. My apologies for worrying you.”

“Well, as long as you’re alright, I suppose it’s okay.”

Despite the situation, she felt a smile crawl up on her lips. “Thank you, Ashe.”

“My, is there something that I don’t know about?” The strong arm of her saver of the day fell around her shoulders and from the corner of her eye, she saw his smug face. “Ashe, the way you act around our dearest Ingrid...”

The boy’s face turned red from zero to hero and the blonde girl slumped her shoulders in defeat. “T-there is nothing between us!” When the redhead snickered, Ashe stomped the floor. “Sylvain!”

“Kidding, just kidding.” The arm left her shoulders and fell around Ashe’s instead. “By the way, while we’re at it...”

Before driving into this conversation, she bid a greeting to Mercedes and Annette when she went inside and discovered her professor standing at the chalkboard, explaining something to the prince she decided to serve.

The sight of him was enough to let the words come back in a flash. In the quarter of a second, she saw Glenn’s face – but instead of smiling, his face was covered in blood, his hair damp with the liquid and his eyes lifeless.

She took a deep breath. Balled her fists to hand felt the needles prickle into her neck. Her hair, open for the first time ever since she entered the academy, flew behind her when she stepped forward.

“Ah, Ingrid.”

Dimitri’s blue orbs were widened, taking a gulp and she decided to take care of it later. But before, she needed to do something else.

“My sincerest apologies, professor. I’ve overslept and didn’t notice the time. If you want me to do take over the week’s task alone or extra homework, I’m ready.” She bowed again, the cascades of one of her biggest treasures falling over her arms.

Her hands remained fists.

“Don’t bow before me, Ingrid. It’s alright.”

She looked into her professor’s face and saw the small smile on her lips – something they have discovered only a small period past now and it was strong enough to take all fear and guilt from her shoulders. “It’s alright to sleep in for once. It won’t kill you and besides…,” she spoke an her blue eyes got that analytical gaze that was both admired and feared among her students, “you look like you still need some more sleep. Take it easy for today, we need all power we can get for this month’s task.”

The professor put her hand on her shoulder. A kind gesture, enough to bring the courage back into her bones and to take Dimitri’s worried eyes with a confident stature. “Don’t worry. Alright?”

And Ingrid felt everything fall from her shoulders. “Understood, professor.”

“Good. Since you’re here we can resume the lesson. Dimitri.”

To see the prince of Faerghus nearly yelp at her sudden direction nearly brought a small smile to her lips. It reminded her of the times when they were younger and-

“Can you call the rest inside again?”

“O-Of course, professor. Consider it done.”

Blue met green. Only from the corner of their eyes, they shared a glance. Two classmates, two friends, a prince and his future knight.

Ingrid closed her lids, letting out a deep sigh and she heard the same sound from Dimitri’s mouth. But instead, it was one of unmistakable relief.

“This is the first time I’ve seen you with open hair.”

Heat climbed up her cheeks. “Does it look weird?”

“Not at all. It suits you.” A small pause. “Ingrid?”

“Yes?”

“If there is anything troubling you, you know I have an open ear for you.”

A stone falling from a high cliff. Crashing into the water and letting the waves flood the shore. But when the chaos was done, only peace remained.

That was the feeling she felt in her chest when she spoke those words.

“Thank you, professor.”

The professor smiled at her.

It was going to be alright.

* * *

**VII.**

Their professor is confident.

Dimitri is excited.

Felix is eager.

Mercedes is sanguine.

Annette is prepared.

Ashe is motivated.

Sylvain is concentrated.

Flayn is delighted.

Dedue is trusting.

And her?

A blue sky reached over their heads. Only a few clouds to be seen. The sun shining down and warming her scalp.

She stood on the farthest line on the right. The warmth of her Pegasus beneath her bosom, her lance in her hand and for just a small moment, she shielded her eyes from the light.

_Watch over me._

“For honor!”

A battle beneath the blue sky began.

And Ingrid launched forward.

* * *

**VIII.**

Everything changes. Instead of a peaceful end to the probably best year of her life, a war waited at their footsteps.

The Adrestian empire declared bloodshed on the entirety of Fódlan. They drew their blades, sharpened their axes and prepared their horses to march forward. To a future they thought would be best.

Garreg Mach fell. Everything was destroyed. The professor disappeared. Mercedes, Annette, Ashe, Dimitri and Dedue went another way. They lost each other and couldn’t even try to find out where they are.

Only them – Sylvain, Felix and herself were left, having fled to the north to find sanctuary in the territory closest to the border. They ran for weeks, without food and they had to hunt regularly, trying to dodge the imperial soldiers and trying to survive.

Until they reached Galatae territory, her _home,_ they were nothing but two boys and a girl, being ripped of their home for a year and any pride and dignity was taken from them.

Their faces changed. When Ingrid woke up after a short, cold night, she looked into the face of her best friend and saw how his bags had changed. The paleness of his skin wasn’t glossy anymore, it was ghostly, reminding her of dead faces and bloody corpses and-

his face. His once blue eyes were nothing but white and a trail of red ran down his mouth with his voice groaning in her ear- _“It hurts, Ingrid, please, help me, it hurts, I-”_

She got nightmares. About her friends, about Dimitri and their professor, about the other students, about anything that can happen in war. There were nights when she cried herself to sleep, others where she curled herself into a ball and vowed herself to make this war see an end.

The others had a deep void in their eyes. They were warriors, residents of Faerghus, but it was a cruel truth she realized – all warriors had to endure a trial, to find out whether they can continue on their paths.

With a heavy heart, she realized that Duscur wasn’t the end.

It was only the beginning.

They continued. If their assumptions were correct, only half a day was left to reach Galatea. But the borders of Faerghus were heavily protected by the enemies soldiers and they had to be prepared. Maybe they would fight, maybe they would get a good moment to sneak by.

But the goddess had to bless them to get such a chance.

And while they speak about their possibilities, Ingrid caught herself putting her hand on her hair, petting the dirty strands.

Pure gold falling down her back. Her father always rejected the idea of her having to cut it. She never wanted to.

But dire situations called for dire actions.

“You don’t have to do this, Ingrid.”

Sylvain’s kind eyes were boring right through hers. They left a fiery path along her profile while she held out her hand towards Felix. The scowl he gave her was familiar and the small hum of pride even more. He handed her his sword.

“Your hair is so beautiful, it’d be a waste to cut it.” He’s trying to apall her – he’s scared, just like them all. He always liked her hair, something he had grown used to caress whenever she was sad to a reason for him to joke because her hair was so similar to the other girls’.

“If it’s her decision, Sylvain, leave her be.” Felix cutting voice was enough to send a comfortable shiver down her spine. “It’s much easier to fight if the enemy won’t be able to take advantage of it.”

Always so pragmatic. Always so honest. But it was a trait she cherished in her friend.

Ingrid Brandl Galatea gathered her hair in a tight grip in her fist, the sword rising to the edge of her neck.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered and a clean cut was done. Gold, pure gold, fell on the ground beneath her feet and her head felt light and free.

For a small moment, she saw a spark. A faint light, warming her heart. And then it was gone.

She left the hair lying on the ground, returned the sword to its rightful owner and let her shoulders fall.

Sylvain hugged her around her shoulders. Mouthed in her now short hair:

“I’m proud of you.”

* * *

**IX.**

“Lord Rodrigue?”

It was a face she hasn’t seen in over f ive years.  And while she knew that he had joined the Kingdom’s forces after Aillel, she hadn’t even thought once about going to him. 

The goddess must have been kind to let them meet at the stables in Garreg Mach – her tending to her loyal pegasus, him checking on his strong horse.

When the lord turned his head into her direction, she saw the number of wrinkles in his face. Time was a cruel beast in the fact of Rodrigue Achille Fraldarius and it left deep wounds in his face.

But when he smiled at her, it was still the same – fatherly, warm, kind, accepting. “My, it’s been ages since I’ve last seen you. How many years has it been?”

“Five, my lord.”

“Five years already...” In a flash, his eyes turned dark, but the spark of his figure kept him alive. “You’ve grown to such a beautiful young woman, Ingrid. I’m happy to see that the war hasn’t taken this from you.”

Heat crept up her cheeks, eliciting a laugh from him. “And still so modest and shy. There is no need to be shy, Ingrid. I assure you that I speak the utmost truth.”

“Thank you, my lord.” Even though she could still feel the blush on her cheeks, she smiled at the man in front of her and tilted her head. “I’m r elieved to see that you’ve joined our forces.”

“It is my utmost honor. If there is anything I can do to protect our home, I will do it with all the power that I have.”

“Thank you. It means very much and I am assured that your presence is a great asset to the troop's morale.”

He laughed – and though it was a sound familiar to her, it sounded hollow, not full like so many years ago. It felt like an eternity.

“It is an honor to hear such words from such a formidable warrior, but I believe our men are truly bravest and motivated when they see you in the midst of battle.” She saw a spark in his eyes and she felt the second heat climb up to her cheeks. “Such a formidable warrior as yourself would truly be fitting to be a general. You have your head on your shoulders and know how to fight.”

She cleared her throat – oh goddess, what would her father say if he saw her like that? “I think you are exaggerating, my lord, but I’m very grateful. To hear those words from a warrior like yourself help me to keep on fighting.”

“I see.”

Silence crept up between them and she could feel his stare bore into her eyes. Ingrid titled her head, folded her hands in front of her stomach. “Lord Rodrigue?”

His age returned to his features – the wrinkles were carved in deep and the worry in his eyes took all the light that was there before. The war was not kind on him. “My apologies, Ingrid. I should not be taking your time.”

“Nonsense, it’s alright.” She shook her head vehemently. “But, may I ask what is on your mind? I do not wish to intrude in your privacy, my lord, but if there is something-”

A hand on her shoulder. Her words were cut off and she felt a lump in her throat. Whether it was from sheer surprise or from the meaningful gesture, she didn’t know.

“Don’t be so formal, Ingrid. I’m honored that you hold me in such high regards, but I’ve known you ever since you were born.” The corners of his lips rose. “It would be my honor if you’d just call me by my name. His highness does the same, after all.”

Maybe it was a joke. Or a gentle reminder of the way how things had been before the war had happened. Hell, before Duscur tore so many of them apart.

In a world where Rodrigue was a little bit like the second father to three of them – the best friend of the king, a proof that a father could love his children despite their crest and the father of the man she was once supposed to marry.

“I thank you.”

She bowed before him, but kept her hands intertwined.

“Sometimes, I wonder how Glenn would act in this war. What he’d say and what he’d do.”

She felt the old heaviness return to her shoulders. She had forbidden herself to think about it – she needed to think about the future to fight this war and not cling to the past that resembled the present so much. “Sometimes, I wonder the same.”

“He was always so very wise for his age. Always ahead of his time and his friends. Such a talented young boy and so incredibly kind. I am sure that my wife would have been so incredibly proud of him.”

Ingrid pressed her hands against her stomach.

“I am glad to know that you still remember him, Ingrid.”

“Always.” She closed her eyes – and the memory of his face got hazier. “I will always remember him.”

And suddenly, two arms hugged her around her shoulders and pulled her close. Warmth, familiar warmth coursed through her veins and all of a sudden, Ingrid missed her own father so much.

Tears pricked at her eyelids and she let out a small sob. Allowed her shoulders to shake and tremble.

Her heart felt so incredibly full that she thought it’d burst at any second.

* * *

**X.**

Simply due to nostalgia, Ingrid allowed herself to walk through the monastery grounds. She took the same routes as five years ago – paying a visit to the dining hall, the fishing pond, the knight hall and finally the classroom.

The cold of the Pegasus moon passed her skin and Ingrid pulled her shoulders up while she strode towards the classrooms – the sound of her heels echoing through the space around her and the scent of the moist grass around her filled her nose, reminding her of the time over five years ago, before the war began and she was a simple student in a class that was united with a professor that led them.

From afar, she saw the space before the rooms where she had spent most of her time (next to the dining room, of course, but that was something she’d only admit with a blush on her face). She passed the Golden Deer, noticed how the room was shred in complete darkness.

She reached the Blue Lions and noticed with surprise that a lamp was lit on the teacher’s desk with the professor standing over it. Her green hair was pulled into a ponytail, the flame playing a game of shadows on her pale skin and her hands sorting through a stack of papers.

“Professor?”

She jumped, only a little bit, bit it was a sight that too estranging but also too endearing. Her green eyes were widened, her hands ready to grab the sword of the creator at her hip, her shoulders pulled high and mighty. But light green met dark green and Byleth let out a small breath, took her hands away from her weapon. “Ingrid. I haven’t noticed you.”

“My apologies, I didn’t mean to trouble you. If I’m intruding, I can go-”

“No, it’s alright.” She shook her head.

She got closer, crossing the classroom and all of a sudden, all the memories hit her like a brick: the lessons they’ve spent as a group with Professor Byleth in the front, teaching them about battle strategies, weapon advantages and disadvantages, about possible scenarios, even going so far to theorize about conditions which could really turn a fight into a failure or a victory. The way how Sylvain would do everything but make notes, how Dimitri, Ashe and Annette were the ones who would participate the most. She remembered how there were so many who joined their class – Marianne, Lysithea, Ignatz and Raphael of the Golden Deer, Dorothea, Ferdinand, Caspar of the Black Eagles or Constance, Harpi, Yuri and Balthus of the Ashern Wolves.

She let out a small sigh. Looked over the professor’s shoulder with curiosity. “Professor?”

Ingrid fell silent when she saw a stack of letters, scattered over the desk’s surface. And all these envelopes were written with their names: _Dimitri, Dedue, Felix, Annette, Ashe, Mercedes, Sylvain, Ingrid, Marianne, Lysithea, Ignatz, Raphael, Dorothea, Ferdinand, Caspar, Constance, Harpi, Yuri, Balthus, Cyril._

“These are letters.” One by one, she stacked them into a small tower, resting her hand on the one written for the prince of Faerghus on the top. “If anything happens to me, I do not want to leave without regrets.”

“Professor.” Ingrid failed to say another word. To think that their strongest warrior next to Dimitri would even think about it. Was she truly so foolish to never e ven consider such an option? 

The professor rounded the table, opened the lowest drawer of the desk, put them inside and lingered crouched on the stone floor. Only after a long moment did she rise, joining Ingrid at the front and sitting on the surface. Without any words, she patted the spot right next to her.

Ingrid obliged.

“When my father died,” she spoke and it forced a shiver through Ingrid. She remembered the night when the professor came home with a pair of eyes that lost all possible happiness, all the little signs and emotions that made them so special and a smile that was lost on its way. “I regretted many things. I regretted that I never told him how much he meant to me. How much I admired him and how much I loved him. I was arrogant to think that he is invincible, that nothing could take him away from me. I had to learn through the hard way.” The professor let her shoulders sink and a small sigh escaped her lips. “I don’t want to live with regrets. Whatever may come, I know that all of you have a final message from me and I can die in peace.”

“That won’t happen, Professor. We will protect you, no matter what.”

The professor smiled. Looked at her profile. Tilted her head. And Ingrid felt like seventeen again, not twenty two with a war behind her and in her bones. “You cut your hair.”

Her hand found her bun. She could still recall the moment she had cut the result she received through long patience and long caring. The sensation of the blade at the back of her neck, Felix’s proud look and Sylvain’s worry and his embrace that soothed all the concerns that popped up right after the weight fell on the ground.

“It was necessary.” She fingered the few strands that have escaped her style. “If I had kept my long hair, the enemy would have an easy game to capture me.”

She could hear the hum of the professor and the corners of her lips rose when she pondered about the carefree sound in the middle of so much bloodshed and death.

“Thank you, professor. Even though it is a dire situation and I truly hope that it will never come to this, I am honored that you thought so far ahead. I...”

She sighed. An old thought crossed her mind, a desire so far in the past that she had already forgotten it. But like a drowning figure,  it came up to the surface, gasped for air and tried to fight its way back to land. 

“Would you indulge me, professor? Can I tell you about something?”

“Of course.”

No hesitation. Not even a single glance to another side. Byleth just simply looked a her and gave Ingrid her undivided attention.

“I suspect the name ‘Glenn’ is not unfamiliar to you?” The sole purpose of saying his name aloud was a small pierce into her heart. There had once been a time when simply thinking his name was enough to bring the tears into her eyes and the sobs out of her mouth.

Nine years have passed and it still felt kind of the same.

“He was my betrothed. We were promised to each other when I was born. Both Lord Rodrigue and my father were happy about this promise between us and it would have been the ideal marriage – my family and the territory of Galatea would have been safe with the resources of house Fraldarius and House Fraldarius would have a safe marriage and with that,  a safe alliance to another house in the kingdom.” She played with her fingers, formed circles in the air with her thumbs. “Glenn was my best friend back then – he was a kind brother to Felix, he protected his highness and was so much more reliable than Sylvain. He was the one who inspired me to become a knight – he was one of the youngest to ever take that position, only with thirteen years.  But...”

As soon as she spoke the word, she saw how the professor’s look changed – only a hint of sadness was present, but in the face of her former tutor, it was more than a thousand words. “He died. In Duscur, he gave his life to protect Dimitri. Back then I’ve told him that I was worried, if he really had to go. Now I know that it was a ridiculous question since he couldn’t just abandon his duties. But sometimes, I wish- I wish he could have done the same as you.”

Dark green and light green met each other and Byleth leaned a little bit forward, her gaze intensifying in color and strength.

“I wish he could have left me something. A letter or anything, just to let me have some closure. But he didn’t – the only thing that returned was his sword, the one he fought with to protect Dimitri. Nothing else – no personal belongings since he was very modest in this aspect and didn’t keep much of any value to him. He only needed his blade and that was enough for him. He was the ideal knight.” With her right hand, she skimmed the back of her left one with her fingers. “E very time I look at the face of his highness, I remember that Glenn sacrificed himself for him. He fought until the bitter end and his goal was fulfilled. He lived.”

And it came back. The sadness, the heaviness, the assurance that it would never change. He was dead and nothing could bring him back from the grave. The mourning, the grief, the pain. It took place nine years ago and yet it felt like the wound was fresh and still bleeding.

“But sometimes, I wish there was more. I-,” she said and took a deep breath, noticed how her voice slowly moved into a stuttering mess, “I am aware that it’s selfish. I know that it’s not right and I am sure if Glenn would see me right now he’d tell me that it’s not right. His highness is alive, he didn’t die in vain. And yet, I wish he had left something for me. Anything that I can hold on. Something I can always carry with me whenever this war demands too much from every one of us.”

Byleth’s gaze was unwavering, a rock in the shore and she only scooted closer when one of Ingrid’s most loyal and her most despised companions visited her again.

Silent tears ran over her cheeks and she closed her eyes, pulled her shoulders upwards and intertwined her fingers.

She had already cried so much. But no matter how many tears she had spent for him, it would apparently never enough.

Maybe time couldn’t heal all wounds.

* * *

**XI.**

“Thank you, professor. For listening to me.”

“It was my honor, Ingrid. Don’t forget.” And before the green-haired warrior would turn to the door of her quarters and leave for her night’s rest, she reached for Ingrid’s arms and put her hand on it. A warm hand, the temperature going right through the fabric of her tunic and into her own skin. “If there is anything you wish to talk, don’t hesitate to come to me. Not only now, but also in the future. I am willing to listen.”

The breath cut short and Ingrid felt her neck obey her command immediately – she bowed in front of her professor. “Thank you, professor.”

“Good night.”

When Ingrid had straightened her back, she could see the woman return to her own room and Ingrid turned on her heel.

From the corner of her eye, she saw the lone blue moon. The moonlight that brushed her cheek and let the grass appear silver underneath her feet.

He gave his life. She couldn’t turn time back. It’d be wrong.

And the scar was still not there.

Ingrid let her shoulders fall and retreated into the darkness of her room.

* * *

**X** **I** **I.**

When Rodrigue died, Ingrid retreated to the stables and leaned her head against the back of her Pegasus, nuzzling her fur and petting her wings. She wondered about the cruelty of the world, how Dimitri got the man taken from him that he considered as a father and how Felix was the last Fraldarius to live.

While the Duchess Fraldarius and Glenn greeted Rodrigue with open arms on the other side, Felix was alone. And while she only tried once to speak with him, she respected his wish to stay alone and let him have his privacy.

And even though Dimitri regained his sanity with the help of the professor, who couldn’t even think once about letting him out of her sight to make sure he was okay, it was still a far cry from winning the war and finally bringing peace to Fódlan.

But the moment they retook Fhirdiad and the people greeted back their future king, Ingrid allowed herself to look forward to the end and lose sight of the things that should have her attention right now.

The citizens of the capital organized a feast large enough for the entire country, music resounding from every corner and laughter and wine accompanying their happy faces. Even Felix agreed to have a short dance with Annette, although Ingrid was very sure that it wasn’t just the dancing that got him to say yes but also the lovely girl that asked him.

With a small giggle, she leaned back against the wall, crossing her hands behind her back and looking at the clear night sky with stars twinkling in an uncountable number. It reminded her of peaceful times and ever since nine years ago, true peace had never felt so close in reach that she could almost taste it.

“Ah, there you are.”

Sylvain shortened the distance between them and his grin on his lips forced her to reciprocate it, lifting her eyebrow when he took the spot right next to her and leaning against the cold stone wall. “Is there something I can do for you, Sylvain?”

“Nah, I’m good. I was just wondering what you’re doing here instead enjoying all the food in there. They have all sorts of meat, you know.”

“T hank you, but I am sure that there will still be some left when I return. ” As soon as she noticed one of those looks he’d have only in a certain kind of situation, she sighed and put her goblet on the cold stone floor. Despite the cold, she took a seat on the floor and prompted Sylvain to do the same. “Tell me – there is something on your mind, isn’t there?”

“I wasn’t aware that you’re such a fortune teller, Ingrid. Was there something I’ve missed in all those years after all?”

“For how long have known each other?”

A chuckle from the redhead and it brought a strange sense of tranquility in her limbs. After all the things he had to endure and being put through by his family and the entire world, she always was happy to see how he could be whenever he wasn’t so insufferable. Carefree, funny, caring.

“Are you worried about the war’s end, Ingrid?”

She leaned her cheek against her knees, looking at him. Her smile was diminished, her eyes dropped to the floor beneath them and she directed her gaze back to the star. “I don’t know. We may have retaken Fhirdiad and his highness has accepted the throne, but Enbarr is still waiting for us. We have already lost so many people, even those we’ve known and...”

She thought of those whose faces she has seen everyday five years ago: Leonie’s strong expression and her determination, Bernadetta’s innocence and fear of everything around her or Lorenz’s sense for tradition and his eye that looked into the future.

Ingrid wrapped her arms around her knees and placed her chin on her kneecaps. “We have to win this war. To make sure that all of them have not died in vain.”

“Spoken like a true knight.”

All air got knocked out of her lungs and if time wouldn’t be standing still right in this moment, she’d gasp for oxygen to fill her lungs. But everything was frozen around her and she looked at the man she has known for her entire life. “What did you just say?”

His smile, once cocky and nearly unbearable for her nerves, turned melancholic. He picked up his goblet from the ground and pressed it against his lips. “I’ve just thought abut some things in the recent times. And they are not only women, you know.”

Ingrid rolled her eyes.

“I’ve wondered how things will change, you know. If we win this war and if all of us will survive. Edelgard is still a formidable opponent and who knows what she has in store for us. We still have some things to defeat before we can finally get to Enbarr’s gates.” He twirled the goblet in his hand, the silver reflecting the blue moonlight. “And when we defeat her and win this war, what will happen to all of us? Where will we end up with?”

She has never allowed herself to think so far ahead. Even this evening felt like a betrayal – this whole war, she lived in the present, supporting her professor to plan out the strategies in the war room and training with Felix whenever she could spare the time besides taking care of her Pegasus. But when Fhirdidad took them back into her arms and greeted them back like her own children, the children of Faerghus, she allowed herself to think about the end of the war. How it would be if Edelgard was defeated and Dimitri was crowned king.

But her plans for the future? There was never a time she had allowed herself to do that, even when the desire was so great that she interrupted her activity and trained until her limbs felt like lead and she fell into her bed and slept like a rock.

“Dimitri will be king, that’s for sure. Dedue will stay by his side. Can’t have one without the other, after all.”

Ingrid realized that the duscurian man has kept his promise.

“I think Felix will take over the position of his father. Even though it will probably make him throw up with the sole thought of him being one of the post powerful nobles in the kingdom.” The red head pulled his knee close to his chest and rested his left arm on it. “Mercedes told me she wanted to stay with the Church when everything ends. I think Annette would also become the house’s heir. Or,” and it was a glint she hadn’t seen in a far too long period, “House Dominic and House Fraldarius could just become unified with a marriage. That’s something I would pay money for to see.”

“Sylvain,” she hissed.

“What? Come on, don’t tell me you haven’t had the thought at least once too.” With his thump, he pointed to the stone wall behind them. “Felix, our mister-grumpy-and-I-only-know-training-and-not-any-fun Felix is dancing there with a girl without me forcing him to do it.”

“You were never able to force him, Sylvain, don’t make things up.”

“Okay, you know what I mean. This is serious, trust me.”

“Because you already have so much experience with those serious things, or am I mistaken?”

For a second, she thought she had gone too far. It was an evening which was supposed to be enjoyed by all guests.

But he laughed. He honestly laughed and it didn’t feel like one of those to brush her off. It was honest, free and so much like Sylvain that it felt like a breath of fresh air. “You wound me, Ingrid. Really.” He clutched his chest in mock desperation but laughed even more when she couldn’t resist to roll her eyes once again. “But back to the topic, the others?”

“Ashe told me he wanted to become a knight. Back in our academy days.”

It quietened down after her words. She looked into the last remnants of wine she had in her goblet and she downed the rest in one go. Maybe something to eat wouldn’t be the worst choice.

“Hey, Ingrid. Let’s make a promise?”

When she looked at her neighbor, the other side of Sylvain was present. Melancholic, worried about the future, not the easy-going man he often pretended to be.

“Let’s promise to survive until the end of this war. Let’s stick together, okay?”

She felt the corners of her lips rise. “Alright.”

“After all, I still want to see your knighting ceremony.”

Another man’s face was right in front of her eyes and she bit back a sound she deemed as unfitting for the evening. He disappeared again and she nodded. “Thank you. For believing in me, Sylvain.”

“No problem. After all, if I can’t believe in you, who am I supposed to put all my faith in?”

He believed in her.

“Then I want to make sure that I can witness this new dawn with you.”

“How romantic. Is this a proposal, Ingrid?”

A smack to his face was enough to quieten his words and to make him laugh once more.

The moon and the stars twinkled above them and from afar, she could hear Dimitri’s and the professor’s voice in the garden of Castle Fhirdiad.

Ingrid let out a small sigh and leaned her head against Sylvain’s shoulder.

“Thank you, Sylvain.”

An arm around her shoulders and a kiss on the top of her head.

“No problem, Ing. I’m here for you, no matter what happens.”

* * *

**XIII.**

Their wishes came true. The future waited at their doorsteps and the only thing they needed to do was to step over the threshold to take it.

The war was over. Emperor Edelgard has been defeated and both King Dimitri and Byleth stepped out of the throne room to greet the soldiers and their companions. The time of bloodshed was finally over and they could build the fundaments for their own futures.

One of the biggest and yet smallest surprises for her was the announcement that King Dimitri would take their former professor and the kingdom’s forces greatest General to his wife. King Dimitri and Queen Byleth. What a fitting couple to rule an entire continent.

All three countries – Adrestia, Faerghus and Leicester were unified under the same banner. A time of prosperity has begun and their wishes would finally come true.

And even though wishes that have once been forgotten and put aside, they came back to the surface when Felix Hugo Fraldarius  visited her home, moons after the end of the war. “I have something for you.” 

Inside his hand was a square box. Thin and flat and Ingrid felt a certain kind of weight when she took it into her hands. “What is this?”

“I found this.”

She rose her eyebrows and was met by an irritated scowl on his face. “Just open it.”

When she opened the lid, her breath got cut short.

It was a pendant. A silver pendant in an oval shape and with a small feather attached as a charm. On the silver, she could see letters engraved.

S.I.B.G.

“Felix? What is this-”

“It is from my brother.”

“ _And yet, I wish he had left something for me. Anything that I can hold on. Something I can always carry with me whenever this war demands too much from every one of us.”_

The war was over and her wish was fulfilled.

“My father never had the idea to clear out his room – I did. I found this in the farthest corner, hidden. I guess he didn’t want anyone to find it.”

“Those initials-”

“Your name.”

Ingrid Brandl Galatea. And the S?

“Sir.”

“I guess so. I only found this – no letter or any note. I think he had wanted to give this to you when you achieved your knighthood.”

Felix had called her foolish. To cling to that dream. To the dream of becoming a knight instead of a simple noble’s daughter to marry off.

With shaking fingers, she pulled the pendant out of its home and took a good look. The engraving, the charm and she turned it around.

_Sword of Faerghus._

Lord Rodrigue Achille Fradlarius was once called ‘Shield of Faerghus’. Glenn Ludwig Fraldarius was his heir, ready to take on that title.

She closed her eyes. Pressed the pendant close to her chest. Felt the metal against the fabric and she took a deep breath.

She opened her eyes, smiled at the man who would have become her brother in a different life – and for the first time in eternity, he smiled back.

“Thank you, Felix.”

“You’re welcome, Ingrid.”

* * *

**XIV.**

The doors opened. And it was a sight to behold. All of them were here. All of them were looking at her. And it dawned upon her.

On the 26th of the Verdant Rain Moon, she would finally become a knight.

With a deep breath, Ingrid Brandl Galatea entered the throne room and walked along the aisle.

Her gaze focused and unrelenting, directed forward. King Dimitri and Queen Byleth standing side by side, both of them in their royal regalia. The king wearing the colors of blue and silver while the queen and archbishop standing by his side as his aid, her white gown letting her look ethereal.

Both of them smiled at her – Dimitri in happiness, Byleth in pride.

On the right the nobles of the kingdom. Duke Fraldarius, Margrave Gautier, Baron Dominic, Lord Lonato, Lord Rowe, Lord Galatea – her own father, watching how she kneed in front of the royal couple and their ruler’s booming voice echoed through the throne room.

On the left all the nobles of the other territories: Duke Aegir, Count von Edmund, Count Ordelia, Count Goneril, Count von Bergliez, Lady von Nuvelle.

“Ingrid Brandl Galatea.”

The pendant felt warm against her chest. The engraving a weight against her skin.

“After all the deeds you have done for us, for all the battles you have fought for your kingdom, I am assured that not only I am assured that you have deserved this spot right, but the rest of the audience as well.”

Cheers from behind. She smiled.

“Well then, let’s begin. Dedue.”

As per tradition, the king would choose a blade worthy for the new knight and give it to him as a present and as a sign for loyalty. Dedue, the man she had threatened to many years ago, stepped forward, gave the blade to the king and stepped back.

She felt the top of the sword on her right shoulder. “Do thee, Ingrid Brandl Galatea, swear to protect our kingdom with your life? To uphold our ideal of  chivalry, honor and loyalty? To never betray your kingdom for another’s favors?”

“ _ For honor!” _

“Yes, your majesty.”

Then her left shoulder. “Do thee swear to uphold peace in our times, to never wield your weapon for war and cruelty? Do thee swear to give your life for the weak, to protect them with all your power and show sacrifice in death? To not divide your vow between those of the former Empire and the former Alliance?”

“Yes, your majesty.”

And finally, with the blade, _her_ blade, he rested it on her head. “With all the vows you haven’t only made before me but also in front of those you promised to protect and fight for, I name you Sir Ingrid Brandl Galatea, knight of the unified Fodlan. May you be a shining example for all warriors out there and may peace be safe with you as its warrior.”

Affirmative grunts. “Rise, Sir Galatea.”

Not Lady. But Sir.

Ingrid stood up on her own two legs and looked into the face of the king, her king – the boy she has known for over two decades now. He held out her sword. “This is the proof of this day. Use this blade wisely and uphold your vows and be a proud warrior of our king Loog.”

She could feel the tension rising behind her back.

She took the sword from his hands and bowed once more, her head hanging low. “I will keep my vows. I swear it.”

“Then show yourself to the people you have sworn to protect.”

Byleth smiled at her and Ingrid put the sword into her empty scabbard. She turned on her heels and the cheers began. All those eyes were set on her, looking at her with admiration and pride.

Sir Ingrid was finally a knight.

And with a silent voice, she spoke her gratitude to the one who brought her all this way.

* * *

**XV.**

The first one who greeted her after the ceremony and during the party dedicated for her victory was her father. His arms wrapped around her shoulders, he whispered to her: “I’m so proud of you, my little girl.”

She reciprocated his embrace, burying her face into his chest and the warmth against her chest let her skin burn. “Thank you, father.”

“I am sure he would have been proud of you, seeing you like this.”

And instead of an open wound, it was just a light pulse, wracking through her body.

Both king and queen weren’t modest when they organized the feast for her – enough food and drink for everyone, musicians dancing every kind of song, from traditional to upbeat, entertaining both young and old. So many were coming to her, congrulating her on this special day and Dorothea couldn’t hold herself back when she embraced her fully and kissed her on both cheeks, a glint in her eyes when she spoke her wishes.

She had danced with the king, spoke long and fully with the queen, ate too much food with her brothers and thanked Ashe and Dedue for the outstanding buffet.

The hours passed and the newly-appointed knight fought her way through the crowd and escaped out of the festivities. The night air of the verdant rain moon touched her cheek with deft fingers and pressed a silent kiss against her forehead. She could feel the sweat forming on the back of her neck and without anyone around her and only the sounds escaping from the background a reminder that it really happened.

Her dream came true. After so many years, she finally became a knight.

“I really wonder sometimes if you watch over me.” Her voice was quiet. Her hand palmed the pendant beneath her tunic and she remembered his face – his kind eyes, the long hair, the finely cut jaw, the resemblance to his father. “I finally did it – I finally am a knight. You have shown me the way that I wanted to walk and without I, I would have lost sight of that. So many things have happened – my year at the academy, the war, all those battles we fought.” She unclasped the pendant from her neck and looked at the backside – the other engraving, next to her name. “I will be the sword this kingdom needs. I will do everything I can to make sure that you can rest in peace and find closure on the other side. I will miss you, terribly, but I know...”

She took a deep breath. Pressed the pendant against her chest. “Wherever you are, I hope you are proud of me. Thank you, Glenn. Without you, I wouldn’t have come so far. May you find peace in your eternal slumber.”

A kiss on the metal and she closed her eyes. She could feel the tears, but blinked them away. “I’ve cried enough. It is time for me to leave it at rest. A new life has begun for me and I will seize it. Watch over me, Glenn. No matter what happens.”

The feather was dangling from her grip.

“Ingrid?”

A voice echoed from behind her and her breath hitched. Turning around, she could see Sylvain coming her way, his mouth set into a warm smile. “Everything alright?”

Something wet ran down her cheek and she quickly wiped it away with her index-finger. “Of course. I was just a little tired, that’s all.”

“I don’t hold that against you. It’s been a really busy day.” He found his spot right next to her, his arms placed against the railing. “You okay?”

“I am.” She nodded, smiled at him. “I just can’t believe I finally got so far.”

“You did it. I’m proud of you.”

From afar, a sound echoed and Sylvain held out his arm. “Would you accompany back to the party, my lady? I’ve heard the guests are missing the star of the evening?”

And she remembered – the day a red haired boy came to her door and asked her for her help. The moment she opened her door after a long time.

She took his arm.

"Gladly."

**Author's Note:**

> Edit: 7/9/2020
> 
> After reading through it again, there are some things I've wanted to mention. Especially about the scenes and my thoughts about it. 
> 
> II: I know that Ingrid is generally disliked because of her racism against the people of Duscur, especially since you can really see it in her support with Dedue. She learns it was wrong over time, but I really wanted to include it. She's angry and confused and of course she looks for someone to blame because she's only fourteen.  
> IV: Her line of thoughts are taken from her support with Dimitri about her idea that Glenn is an ideal knight. I think it can serve as a turning point for her developement especially because she hears that his death was needless from the person Glenn died to protect.  
> VIII: Since Ingrid, Felix and Sylvain arrive together in Azure Moon, I thought that they would also escape together. I thought that Annette and Mercedes escaped as a duo, Ashe on his own, Dimitri and Dedue and then those three. I can't imagine that their route to their respective homes was an easy one, since Edelgard managed to cause war across the continent and I thought that she disposed soldiers to guard the line to Faerghus.  
> IX: Rodrigue didn't have any interaction with Ingrid and I think that's a shame. I know that Rodrigue was a second father for Dimitri, especially after his own died, but I think he was something similar to Sylvain and Ingrid too. Rodrigue was kind to his own children and didn't seem to be interested in crests (for Sylvain) and he was supposed to be the father-in-law for Ingrid. The game would have been to long if they had included that, but I've thought an interaction between those two was in order.  
> XIV: In their paired ending, there was not much said about Ingrid, only about Sylvain. Ingrid becomes a knight and finally realizes her own dream after so many years. 
> 
> Wanted to voice my thoughts about my motives how I wrote it. Hope you can see where I'm coming from.


End file.
